


who are we fooling?

by EllieLovesYou



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst-y, F/M, Inspired by Music, So yeah, idk what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 13:32:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6081243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieLovesYou/pseuds/EllieLovesYou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Silence filled the house in the most uncomfortable of ways—most days it was nice. Nice that her perpetually busy life was calm enough to have her home filled silence, nice that she was given a chance to suck in a deep breath and let out. It was comforting.</p><p>But now it’s making her skin crawl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	who are we fooling?

**Author's Note:**

> Heavily suggest listening to 'Who Are We Fooling?' by Brooke Fraser because this little thing was heavily inspired by it. So yeah. Enjoy!

Silence filled the house in the most uncomfortable of ways—most days it was nice. Nice that her perpetually busy life was calm enough to have her home filled silence, nice that she was given a chance to suck in a deep breath and let out. It was comforting.

But now it’s making her skin crawl.

She’s sitting on the edge of her bed, her bare feet brushing the wooden floor. Her temples feel like they’re about to burst and her face is swollen; she supposes that crying for the better part of the day will do that to you.

Slowly she pushes herself up from the bed, she spares a look behind her to see her husband sitting on his side of the bed—his usual sunny demeanor has been replaced with a dark look, a sad look. He doesn’t ask where she’s going as she slowly drags her feet across the floor, he knows her like the back of his hand. He already knows.

She’s going to the bathroom to wet her face, to take a deep breath, to be alone for just a second. She had done it since he met her.

“This is it?” her voice makes him look up; she’s standing in front of the sink in their bathroom, the door wide open. She’s looking at her reflection and she’s gripping the edges of the sink.

“I think”

She nod and sucks in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. It’s shaky and it looks like she’s about to cry again but he doesn’t move.

“I—“ she stops herself, finally breaking her stare from the mirror and looks to him “I don’t know what to do”

“Me too”

They guess that’s it—they don’t know what to do without each other. They have loved each other all their lives and now they want to stop and—it just doesn’t seem plausible.

She crosses back to the bed and sits down; she lets out a breath and lies on her back instinctively curling towards him. She’s about to back track but he’s quick to gather her up in his arms and keep a tight hold on her like he had done for so long.

“I don’t know who I am without you” he mumbles “I don’t wanna live without you”

She doesn’t say anything because, really, he took the words right out of her mouth.

“it feels wrong” a pause “To stay together but it also feels wrong to leave each other”

They’re too intertwined, she thinks, they’ve been together for thirteen years—everything she has, has hints of him embedded into them. No man or woman would ever love every piece of her like he has—she knows that. Just like how she knows no man or woman could love him, ever scar and deep fear, like she has.

They’re tangled together into a knot of each other but it’s bruising them now.

And they want to undo this thirteen year old knot, but it just fights them. Always fighting them, something always stops them from doing what they’ve been thinking about doing.

His mother passed, her mom was hospitalized, their friend moved, their friend passed, just always something that made them second guess themselves.

Now there’s nothing.

She wishes there was something.

So does he.

Fact it though, there isn’t.

 

-

 

They don’t actually do anything for a week—they still move together effortlessly and they function just fine but then they come together and decide it’s time.

“Start small” she says softly “Nothing too large, not now”

He nods “Okay”

“Just—“ she lets out a breath and pulls him closer to her “Do it slow”

His eyes burn.

 

-

 

He’s fully moved out within two weeks.

She comes home one night and kicks off her shoes and goes to drop her keys into the bowl by the door but they hit the floor instead. She looks over and notices the bowl gone—it was from the one art class she took in college, she made it for him.

All of sudden everything seems wrong. She takes the stairs two at a time and bursts into the room, she opens the closet door and half of it is empty—his half. She stumbles back and her knees hit the bed causing her to plop on the bed, his half.

She feels her heart breaking as she reaches over to the nightstand and runs her hand over its empty top. It was always full; he was always throwing something on there, a watch, loose dollars, papers but the one thing that was always there was their wedding photo.

Even that’s gone.

She can see from her vantage point on the bed that the dresser now only has her things piled on top of it. She can’t remember when he took the photo, or his clothes or his shoes or his toothbrush—she had been ignoring it so flawlessly but now she can’t.

Because everything is gone.

 

-

 

Nothing feels right.

This isn’t his bed, that’s not his lamp, the bowl doesn’t belong by _that_ door—this isn’t home.

He curls around his pillow and squeezes his eyes shut; maybe, he can fool himself into thinking it is. Just take a deep breath and picture everything around him and be done with it. But it doesn’t work.

The sheets are too scratchy; she never would’ve picked them. The bed is too soft, she has a bad back, and she needs something firm, the scent around him is too new. It makes his gut twist and his heart ache for home.

But this is home now.

It doesn’t feel right though.

 

-

 

“We have to talk”

“I thought we agreed—“

“I know” she sighs and rubs her temples; she didn’t want to call him. They had agreed to very limited contact because anything but complete separation would break them and he’d be moved back in before the end of the week “But something’s happened”

“I’ll be there soon”

 

-

 

He feels like maybe he shouldn’t go—the practical part is telling him he shouldn’t go—they’re still married but they’ve decided to end that. They love each other so much but—but sometimes love isn’t enough.

The familiar house comes into view and he sighs, they’re still married. He should go in.

So he does.

He knocks on his own door and waits for her to answer, and when she does it takes every ounce of strength to not take her in his arms. She greets him politely and lets him in.

She plays the good hostess and offers him something to drink to which he denies. She nods and looks down and then all of the sudden the words are out of his mouth and his heart stops.

In the back of his mind he wonders his fast he can move back in.

 

-

 

He’s moved back in within the week.

 

-

 

“So” their mutual friend, Allison, and her girlfriend, Kira, are at their house—none of their friends know. Not his best friend and not her’s. No one knows how they almost ended their marriage “Any news? Things have gotten so boring around here”

She sucks in a breath and shares a look with him, he nods and she lets out the breath and looks at their friends

“I’m pregnant”

 

-

 

Everyone congratulates them. They smile and say how they’re so blessed and how it was a pleasant surprise and that it couldn’t have been better timed.

They both agree that the last part is a complete lie.

They both think she should’ve found out before he moved out.

 

-

 

They’re legs are intertwined as they lie in their dark room. She’s wrapped around him and he’s holding onto her tightly.

“Do you think we’re doing the right thing? Not divorcing?”

“Yeah”

“Me too” she shifts a little because they’re both lying to each other but at the end of the day she has stopped caring. She wants this man in her life and he wants her so she just sighs “I mean, really, who are we fooling?”

She knows they tiptoed around the edge of end—how close they were to falling in. He knows that to and it makes him hold onto her tighter. But something tells him that they weren’t ever actually going to go through with it. They both know it.

Because it was always going to be them—Lydia and Scott. Always and forever. Two terribly stubborn people stuck together till the end of time.

Like she said—who were they fooling?

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment. I love hearing back from you guys.


End file.
